


Comfort

by eli_nora



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, nothing graphic but they are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eli_nora/pseuds/eli_nora
Summary: Richie doesn't like to talk about his problems, Eddie understands that.





	Comfort

For as long as Richie could remember his Mom drank, when he was younger he didn’t quite know what the slurred words and the forgetfulness meant but as he got older he soon connected them to the undeniable stench of cheap liquor that oozed from every pore on his Mom’s body. Eventually he began to forget what it was like when she wasn’t drinking; it wasn’t like she was constantly stumbling about the house giggling with her friends like you expect drunk people to be, she just always needed a drink in her to get through the day- whether she was stilled a bit buzzed from the night before or just starting her second bottle. 

It wasn’t the big things that came with his Mom’s drinking that got to Richie, like the throwing of insults and occasionally fists when she had had one too many. It was the little things that stung the most, like never checking if he’d done his homework (like Bill’s Mom did), or making his dinner (like Stan’s Mom did) or even just making sure he’s still alive like every other goddamn parent. 

He knows that he shouldn’t complain, that he doesn’t have it that bad but that doesn’t change the fact that he often found himself leaning against the inside of the bathroom door, knees to his chest, loudly sobbing to himself, just wishing that his Mom would hear him crying and check on him because she hasn’t had a conversation with her only fucking child in 3 fucking days. 

Really, he should be used to this by now, but he doubts he ever will. 

It’s not like he gives a shit though, it’s just so fucking frustrating that all she does all day is drink and sleep, barely remembering to go out and get some food for the house when she picks up her booze and prescription. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself anyway. 

Richie didn’t like to burden anyone with his issues, he hated the thought of someone else having to deal with his petty problems- regardless of how bad the situation he was in there was always this niggling voice in the back of his head reminding him that someone else always had it worse so he shouldn’t complain. It’s not that he felt like he was too good for it or like it made you weak to speak about your feelings or whatever, in fact, he often tried to comfort or take his friends minds off of their crappy situations, enjoying helping them feel better even if it was just for a little while but he never felt like he could indulge in the same treatment. Like he didn’t deserve it, so he often just tried to forget about what he was feeling, supress his emotions with TV or comics- distracting himself for a little while.

Despite this, on occasion, when he’d had a particularly bad argument with his mum or when he was feeling especially bad about himself he would allow himself a trip to Eddie’s, he’d climb up to his window (with great difficulty) or if he was feeling lazy he’d throw pebbles at Eddie’s window to get him to open his back door. While he did feel guilty for bothering Eddie, especially because it was usually late at night, sometimes he just couldn’t bring himself to care- he sometimes just needed someone to just be there for him and he was grateful that Eddie always was. 

So that’s where he was tonight, using the wooden trellis along the side of Eddie’s house as ladders at 2:30. When he reached the top, he chapped on the window with his left hand, gripping the ladder with his right and waited for the other boy to answer. 30 seconds went by before Richie heard Eddie’s window unlock. When it opened, Richie saw the smaller boy yawn and rub his eye lazily before heading back towards his bed. Richie took his time climbing inside, closing the window and locking it behind him, he glanced around the room before looking over at Eddie who was now in bed again, holding up the quilt for him. Richie pulled off his jacket and kicked off his jeans, leaving them wear he stood and headed towards the bed, as he got in he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and tossed the edge of the quilt behind him. 

He didn’t want to speak about his problems, but sometimes he just liked when someone knew he was sad. He didn’t want to have a long chat or listen to himself cry grossly about his own issues, he wanted someone to understand that he was upset but not ask any questions or make him feel awkward about it. 

He took a shaky breath into Eddie’s hair, just glad to have him there.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally two separate stories that I've mashed together because they weren't really long enough on their own, let me know if it's turned out alright :)
> 
> This hasn't been read over by anyone else and the end product was put together quite quickly so sorry if there's any mistakes.
> 
> Notsostraightstanley on tumblr, feel free to send me prompts! ( https://notsostraightstanley.tumblr.com/ )


End file.
